


Coworkers

by Faylette



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Casual Sex, Farmer Keith (Voltron), Friends With Benefits, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stripper Kinkade, Stripper Shiro (Voltron), Strippers & Strip Clubs, Teasing, Top Kinkade, Yeehaw AU, crack ship, lots of cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 22:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15694758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faylette/pseuds/Faylette
Summary: Shiro has such a big crush on one of his devoted regulars at the club. Kinkade uses it to his advantage.





	Coworkers

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a madwoman possessed. As of the time of posting, I have about 30 minutes before I leave for work. Hopefully it doesn't show too much in the writing, but there you go.
> 
> Based on [toouloo's](http://tofuloo.tumblr.com/)/[buffshiro's](https://twitter.com/buffshiro) Yeehaw AU, which I believe has gone off the rails in an amazing way, with direct inspiration and quotes from [THIS tweet.](https://twitter.com/theredpalaladin/status/1029341493667004416/) Thank you to you both!

“Man, you are thirsty as fuck for that guy in the cowboy hat,” says Kinkade, over the snap and hiss of his opened beer can.

“Mmh?” Shiro, his mouth full of pizza, mumbles.

“Yeah, don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about,” Kinkade scoffs. “That guy — comes to the club every Friday night and monopolizes you until closing?”

“Oh, Keith?” says Shiro mid-chew, before swallowing. “He’s a gentleman and a great tipper. Don’t badmouth him.”

“I’m not _badmouthing_ him,” says Kinkade, choking a little on the swig of beer he just took. “I’m just saying that you should probably fuck him before you snap and do it on stage and get the club shut down.”

“You act like I have zero self-control,” Shiro sneers, in a mixture of mostly feigned offense, and maybe a tiny sliver of actual offense.

“You act like I haven’t seen you dry humping a hole through that guy’s jeans,” Kinkade counters.

“God, Kinkade.” Shiro shakes his head as he licks the grease off his fingers, shamelessly taking advantage of the one night of the week he doesn’t stick to his diet. “All I’ve done for you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Hey, I’m trying to _help_ you.” He nudges a thick textbook on his makeshift coffee table aside with his foot, putting his feet up in its place and leaning back in his secondhand couch. “Doctor’s advice: get a date, and get that dick.”

“Not a doctor yet,” says Shiro, taking another bite of pizza.

Kinkade, like most of the younger guys working at the club, got into stripping to pay for college — turning tips into tuition. Pre-med tuition, more precisely, with the bill for med school to follow. Shiro’s liked him from the first shift they had together, impressed by his dancing skills, steely, intriguing demeanor with his customers, and, yes, stunning good looks. Couldn’t do a damn thing on the pole, though, not until Shiro took him under his pole dancing wing. It wasn’t long before they were friends at work, and then friends outside work, doing the usual friend things: hanging out at each other’s apartments, ordering delivery, watching bad movies, and so on and so forth.

Oh, yeah, and fucking each other when they weren’t getting any, with no strings attached. You know, the usual friend things.

And so things naturally proceed from Kinkade’s couch to Kinkade’s Twin XL mattress, where Shiro, pleasantly tipsy, has Kinkade’s mouth around his cock and Kinkade’s fingers up his ass. The languid pace Kinkade’s setting lets Shiro sink into the sensations, loosening up his work-weary muscles, letting his mind drift away and drown in pleasant thoughts, recent memories mixing with a wandering imagination…

Kinkade sucks hard on Shiro’s head, making Shiro shiver all over, before popping his mouth free. “You’re thinking about him,” he says. “Aren’t you?”

Shiro’s eyes snap open. He hadn’t even noticed his eyes had shut.

“No,” he lies, the fuzzy images from a second ago of Keith’s awestruck eyes and agape mouth becoming clearer, making the lie even more egregious.

“I’ve got my fingers inside you, Shiro,” he says, curling those fingers forward and putting pressure on Shiro’s taint with his thumb. Shiro groans; it’s marvelously torturous. “You can be honest with me.”

Shiro exhales raggedly, the pressure around his prostate making precum drip onto his stomach, hot for a moment, cooling soon after. “Yes,” he admits, shamefully. “Yeah, okay? Sorry.”

“Hey, I’m not offended,” Kinkade insists, pumping his fingers in and out, a notch faster than before. “Whatever helps get you off, man.”

“ _Kinkade_ ,” Shiro whines, the already red-hot heat of his face rising further.

“Go ahead.” Kinkade takes hold of the base of Shiro’s dick, flicks his tongue quick against the frenulum, a cunning smile on his face as Shiro’s thighs twitch. “Pretend I’m him.”

He takes Shiro back into his mouth, swallowing him down to the root. When his head bobs back up, Shiro threads his fingers into the locks at Kinkade’s hairline, pushing his head off his cock, red and heavy and shiny with spit.

“Just fuck me already,” Shiro demands, a shade closer to begging than he had intended.

And Shiro’s thankful that, even though Kinkade’s having fun driving Shiro crazy tonight, the guy isn’t mean. He promptly slips on a condom and lubes himself up, slathering more on Shiro’s fingerfucked hole for good measure, then crawls between Shiro’s spread legs, grabbing Shiro’s hips to angle them with his thick cock. Shiro groans low and slow as each inch is pushed inside of him, stretching him wonderfully, until there’s no more to take, and Kinkade holds himself in place. Shiro takes a deep breath, letting his head sink back into Kinkade’s pillow.

“All good?” Kinkade asks, getting a strained and needy “ _Yes_ ” in reply. “Good.”

He pulls out slow, slides back in slow, repeats, drags those little moans out of Shiro’s throat.

“Think he’s as big as me?” he asks when he’s back balls deep in Shiro.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Shiro gasps. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon, you gotta have some idea,” he needles. “You’ve got him popping boners constantly.”

Shiro does, and maybe Shiro gets a little too close when Keith’s obviously hard, maybe he likes trying to use the insides of his thighs to get a feel for what the cowboy’s got hiding under those blue jeans of his… Shit, Shiro probably _could_ make a good estimation, and that estimation makes it so easy to pretend it’s Keith’s dick filling him up right now.

“You’ve got it so fucking bad for him,” Kinkade says huskily, his voice still impressively even given the swelling speed of his hips. “I saw the way you were dancing on him tonight.” His teasing is interrupted by a grunt, the weight of his cock driving into Shiro’s hole effectively pulling Shiro’s mind away from the interruption. “Fuck, Shiro, I’ve seen porn less obscene than the shit you pull with him.”

“Ah, m-more,” Shiro moans, not at all oblivious to what’s being said to him, but instead progressively more aware of how hard it’s making his dick throb and his nerves spark with pleasing electricity as he gets pounded down. It feels too good to overanalyze, certainly too good to fight.

“And, _man,_ ” groans Kinkade, skin slapping hard against skin. “The way”— _slap_ —“he looks” — _slap_ —“at your ass?”— _slap_ —“You gotta see it — he wants to do this”— _slap_ —“so fucking bad.”

Shiro’s a mess, high off Kinkade’s cock and his taunting alike, panting and moaning and sweating and damn near crying from the pleasure. He’s already been fucked near his point of no return, and he moves his hand down to touch himself, more than eager to push himself past that point.

“Hey, nuh-uh,” Kinkade snaps, grabbing Shiro’s wrist and holding it out of reach. “Say his name, _then_ you can come.”

“You can’t be serious,” says Shiro, though it comes out more as a barely intelligible babbling.

“Say his name, Shiro,” he commands, pinning both of Shiro’s hands down as he thrusts into him. “I know you want to.”

Shiro takes it back, Shiro takes it all back — Kinkade is so mean, he’s such a jerk, oh god, oh _fuck_ , but he’s so good, and _fuck_ , Keith’s so hot and so goddamn sweet to him and he’d feel so _good_ , Shiro just fucking knows it.

“Keith,” he murmurs at first, the name tasting strange and enticing on his tongue. “Keith,” he moans a little louder. “Oh, _fuck,_ Keith.”

“Yeah, there you go,” says Kinkade. “Tell Keith what you want him to do to you.”

“H-Harder, Keith,” Shiro gasps, his words catching in his throat. “Ah, Keith, fuck me harder, Keith, _Keith._ ”

Kinkade, satisfied, sets Shiro’s hands free, and one flies straight to Shiro’s needy cock, pumping it at a desperate pace as Kinkade holds nothing back, fucking Shiro without mercy or restraint. Shiro comes within seconds, babbling Keith’s name like a broken record as he spills his load all over his chest and abdomen. It is without a doubt one of the most powerful orgasms Shiro’s ever had, so much that his dick’s still twitching and dripping as Kinkade finishes, hips slowing down into stillness.

Kinkade spends a moment catching his breath before he pulls out. Shiro, still struggling to catch his own, sprawls on the bed, more than a little embarrassed by what just transpired, but too drowsy and blissed out to care much about anything.

Maybe Kinkade’s right. Maybe Shiro does have it bad for Keith. _Maybe._

“Hey, Shiro?”

“Mm?”

“You think he keeps the hat on when he fucks?”

Shiro yanks the pillow out from under his head and throws it at Kinkade’s face.


End file.
